Finding Heroes
by Enimul
Summary: She had never expected to find one of her heroes while she was working one day. She had never expected to be saved by her heroes. She had never expected to befriend them. And she certainly had never expected to fall in love with one of them. But in the end, she was so grateful she had.
1. Finding a Hero

It was a slow night at Luigi's, which wasn't all that surprising with the liberal coating of snow outside. It would have been surprising that the restaurant was open at all, were it not well known that the owner of the small pizzeria, while a good man, was an absolute hardass when it came to working hours. So here was Joanna, bored out of her mind and trying to keep sane by watching the handful of customers present talk and enjoy their food.

Joanna loved this job. Really she did. Her coworkers were all genuinely nice people, though she wasn't particularly close to any of them. Her boss was a gruff old man, but he was fair and understanding as long as you weren't being an obnoxious moron. Even the regulars were all polite and smiled as she greeted them at the counter. Some even knew her by name now. It was a simple, normal job, and she loved it.

But no matter how much she loved it, sitting in place for two hours doing nothing was enough to drive her nuts.

Joanna almost cried with relief when the bell above the front door chimed, signaling the arrival of a customer. She looked to the door and smiled, a practice that had quickly become instinct with the job.

The smile nearly died on her lips as she actually looked at the newcomer.

The customer was a large man in a big black coat and pants. He wore large, thick-soled boots that should have clunked as they hit the tile floors, but they barely tapped. None of his skin was showing. His face was obscured with a scarf and a hood that was constantly angled just right to hide his face in shadows, and his hand were stuffed in his pockets. He favored his left leg, limping slightly but obviously trying to hide it.

Pushing away the part of her mind that screamed _SUSPICIOUS_, Joanna gave him the usual greeting. "Welcome to Luigi's, sir. Do you have an order ready?"

It was a fitting greeting, she mused. As curt and no-nonsense as the restaurant's owner himself.

"Order number fifteen." The man told her, and she winced internally. Poor guy sounded awful. The winter weather was getting to everyone this year, with the temperatures at a record low, and it seemed he was no exception.

_Way to go, me, _she thought as she went to get his pizza, _getting suspicious of a guy that's probably just trying not to get any sicker!_

Embarrassed, Joanna couldn't quite look the customer in the face after that. "That will be $7.96." She mumbled as the man was already handing her a $10. Pulling the change from the cash register, she dropped it into his-

"_-big, green, scaly hand with three fingers-"_

Joanna gasped and snapped her head up, but the guy was already dashing through the door.

"Wait!" She called after him as she vaulted over the counter with a strength she didn't know she had. Her boss and some of the customers shouted, but she couldn't make out what they were saying past the roaring in her ears. "Please wait!"

Even with his obviously injured leg he was much faster than her. By the time she had gotten out the door and spotted him he was halfway to reaching an alley. Joanna sprinted after him with everything in her and was suddenly immensely grateful for her grandparents living in the Maine countryside. If visits at Christmastime had given her nothing else, they had given her the ability to run through snow like it wasn't there. The other guy did not look to have that, speed or no.

"_-so fast, one minute he was there and then he wasn't, like lightning-"_

He made for the alley like she predicted. She rounded the corner as quickly as she could, still yelling. "Please, wait!" He didn't though, he just kept running and running, turning at the sidewalk on the other side, trying to ditch the girl on his tail.

"_-amazing, never gave up-"_

Joanna sucked in more cold, burning air. She could be just as tenacious as him.

She got out of the alley just in time to see him duck into another. "Please just wait a minute!" She cried when she finally reached the second alley – only to find herself face down in the snow seconds later with her ankle throbbing.

_Dangit, must have caught something under the snow and fell! Of all times!_

She looked up, hopeful to still be able to spot him, only to find that the alley was a dead end. For a moment she was elated, thinking that she'd be able to speak to him now as he had nowhere to go. Then Joanna noticed the fire escape on one of the buildings and her heart sunk. He'd be able to get up that no problem.

Sure enough he was nearing the top of the fire escape when she looked up. Determined to say her piece, Joanna told a deep breath into her pained lungs and shouted-

"_-saved me Joy, saved my life-"_

"THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY UNCLE!"

The sound boomed and echoed through the lonely alleyway. For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn that she saw her hero pause at the top of the building – but then he was gone, over the edge and out of sight.

Joanna sighed, relieved, and waited in the snow for her breath to return to her.

* * *

Spring was showing up early in apology for the brutal winter this year. Luigi's was bustling, and Joanna was really hoping that the end of her shift was sooner than she felt like it was.

It had been five weeks since her encounter with one of her heroes. Her boss had been a fascinating combination of doting concern and absolute fury when she returned, but she hadn't fully been able to appreciate it due to the fact that it felt like she was coming down with hypothermia. Her uniform wasn't made for New York winter temperatures.

When she had finally warmed up enough to be cognizant she was surprised she hadn't lost her job. As it was she just got her pay docked for a month and a stern warning to never do that again, even if the customer left a million dollars in change. It was the only explanation she had been able to come up with, that he had forgotten his change.

_Still can't believe that he managed to run through the snow and up a fire escape with a limp while carrying a pizza. They really are amazing._

It was four months ago today that her uncle had been mugged by a local gang. At first it had been the usual, he had told her, that they wanted his money and if they didn't give it to him they would beat him up. But then one of the members recognized him as the younger brother of a police officer that stuck him in jail once. And just his luck, that member's older brother was in charge of the gang, and was an extreme believer in 'an eye for an eye'. They had started beating him up, intending to send him back as broken as possible to his brother.

And that was when they showed up.

Her uncle had told the police that he had blacked out and didn't see what happened. He had no clue how all of the gang members got knocked unconscious and tied up. But he told Joanna differently.

Four creatures had suddenly descended on them. They looked like giant turtles, with shells and strange hands and weapons. And they had taken out each and every gang member while they thought her uncle was unconscious and vanished as suddenly as they came when the police arrived.

Her uncle knew that no one would believe him if he told this story. But he told Joanna, needing to tell at least one person what he saw. And she believed him. She'd always had a knack for knowing when people were telling the truth, and he had practically radiated sincerity. Not to mention that this was the man who had gotten a concussion playing football and was completely pleasant and coherent on the ride to the hospital.

So she believed him.

And he had been right.

From that day on those creatures had been her heroes. She had seen the injuries on her uncle. Had the gang kept going like she was sure they would have, he either would have been crippled for life or dead. They saved him. And Joanna was more grateful for that than she could ever convey.

_And I repaid that by scaring at least ten years off one of them trying to thank him. Way to go, me._

Sighing, Joanna snapped out of her musings to attend to the last customer in line, a teen with a hoodie and baggy jeans. "Welcome to Luigi's, sir. Do you have an order ready?"

"Order number two-hundred twelve." He told her while Joanna mentally shuddered remembering how busy the day was. She couldn't wait to go to home.

She nodded at the customer before calling over her shoulder. "Henry, number two-hundred and twelve, please!" Said person gave her a thumbs up before going to the back to find that order, while Joanna was appreciating that they had all staff on hand today. She didn't have to do two jobs at once.

"So, nice weather we're having."

It took Joanna a minute to realize that the customer was addressing her. She wanted to laugh at the stereotypical conversation starter, but a crushing wave of shyness came over her. "Yeah, it is."

"Much better than we were having last month. The cold was insane! I could barely stand it." When Joanna just nodded, she got the feeling that he was frowning. "You're really quiet, huh."

She was about to look him in the face and apologize, since the last thing she needed was anyone reporting that she was being unpleasant barely a week after she got off her last punishment, when Henry appeared by her side with the pizza. Mentally sighing with relief, she tried to thank Henry with telepathy. He smirked a bit at her before he left, so she was pretty sure he got it.

Joanna took the pizza and passed it to the customer, still not quite able to look him in the eye. "That will be $7.96, sir." She told him, but he was already handing her a $10, so she pulled out the change and-

-stopped short at the sight of his big, green, scaly hand with three fingers.

All of her thoughts screeched to a halt at once. She stared at the hand, disbelieving and desperately wanting it to be true all at once. Slowly, as slowly as she could manage, she lifted her head to look him in the eye.

For the briefest of moments the shadows retreated from under his hood to reveal a green face and a small smile.

Joanna was certain that her returning grin was so big it looked ridiculous but she didn't care. The change was back in the cash register and she was handing him back the $10 before she realized she was saying "It's on the house."

Her hero seemed surprised, even with his face shadowed again. "Really?"

Nodding, she shoved the dollar bill into his palm. "Just this once, though. I owe you."

_I owe you everything._


	2. Meeting with a Hero

It was mid-May now and Joanna found herself happier than she had been in a long time.

Much to her surprise, her second meeting with her hero had not been their last one. Far from it in fact. He had been visiting almost weekly since then. The first time he'd shown up again was...interesting, to say the least.

* * *

She hadn't known it was him, of course. He'd come in disguised as an old man, bent over with age and supported by a cane. He told her his order, she'd called for Henry, and the turtle then proceeded to rant to her in a shaky voice about nearly everything a senior citizen could rant about and then some. Joanna had nodded along politely wondering why Henry was taking so long until the lazy employee had finally shown up. So she'd given him the pizza, and then proceeded to squawk and fall off her stool in the most uncoordinated manner possible when she saw his green hand extended to give her the payment.

Needless to say her tumble drew more than a few stares and chuckles.

She'd righted herself as quickly as she could and turned her own stare to the not-so-old man. Her throat was refusing to let her ask what he was doing here, so she hoped that she could transfer the sentiment with her mind.

Somehow it worked. "Surprise!" He managed through his stifled laughter. "I totally got you good. You had NO idea that it was me, did you?" A few snickers escaped him before he got a lid on his mirth. "Your face was priceless. Oh man." More laughter, then a sort of hesitance. "I thought I'd show up again and see you...and maybe talk to you for a bit?"

The turtle must have taken her continued staring and silence the wrong way because his speech became more rushed. "I mean it's not often that someone sees u – uh, me without screaming or fainting, y'know? Or trying to get me for some reason. Well, I mean you did kinda gasp and you were chasing me but it wasn't to attack me or capture me or anything. You just wanted to thank me. Which was cool. Really cool. So, uh, your uncle, huh? How's he doing?"

Joanna wanted to tell him a lot of things. That her uncle was fine now. That it probably wasn't safe for someone like him to be in a place like this. That she was so glad he came in anyway. That he and the other three were her heroes. That she was honored and happy beyond all measure that he had come to see her.

She wanted to tell him 'thank you' until her voice went hoarse. But shyness closed her throat and she couldn't say anything at all.

"Shell." Her hero muttered, obviously taking her shyness the wrong way. He seemed to somehow shrink in on himself. "Shell, I...I'm sorry. I didn't think – I never do. Sorry. Should have known better. Just...just forget I was here, okay?" His hand was kept hidden as he placed his money on the far edge of the counter before hobbling off, telling her quietly, sadly, that she could keep the change.

Something in her snapped hearing his pained tone.

"PLEASE!" Joanna shouted, the tightness in her throat wonderfully, beautifully gone – only for it to return full force when she realized that every eye in the room was on her. Including one turtle's, who was paused just in front of the door and half-turned towards her.

Her heart pounded in her ears and she was shaking like a leaf, but somehow she managed to force out three words in a whisper. "Please come again."

It seemed like an eternity, waiting for him to respond. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to keep seeing him. She wanted it so badly it was almost terrifying. But she had no more words, so she looked at him and tried to will him to understand what she couldn't say.

_I want to know you._

Finally, eternity ended, and her hero gave her one small, slow nod before he left.

* * *

Joanna hid her smile at the memory behind her hand when she couldn't suppress it. That he had agreed to come back had made her happy beyond words, and the fact that he'd kept his promise and then some made her happier still.

Because he had come back. Just a few days later, decked from head to toe in rain gear to protect against the torrential downpour at the time. And yet again just two days after that, in his teenager clothes once more. He visited again and again, each time a little longer. It was wonderful.

They'd almost made a game of it, of sorts. She'd try to figure out who he was before he showed her his hand. There were a few ways to tell. First, he always ordered the same pizza, so that gave her an idea that he might be coming. Unfortunately that was never foolproof as it was a relatively popular choice. Second, it was always dark out. He never once came when there was light outside, understandably. This also wasn't foolproof, but combined with the first could narrow it down. Finally, and probably the most revealing, was that he never had any skin exposed. With these three things Joanna often had a good guess who he was.

Of course she was still wrong about half the time. It made him laugh a lot when she got surprised.

Orange (Her hero seemed to make a point to wear something orange at all times, so Joanna had mentally taken to calling him that) had many more disguises than she ever would have guessed. A teenager, an old man, a biker, a homeless guy...heck, he had come in as a clown once and nearly killed her by making her laugh so hard.

If nothing else, Orange was a master at hiding in plain sight.

And between all of those visits they'd grown more comfortable with each other. It was near the end of their fourth meeting when Orange had lost any trepidation he'd had and talked to her about anything and everything that came to mind. Joanna herself was able to speak to him more and more every time. She was so close to being able to speak to him properly she couldn't believe it.

She'd always had trouble with people. Ever since she could remember she'd been plagued with a sense of terror whenever she'd had to interact with someone. Shyness, they always called it, as did she, but sometimes she wondered if the dark feeling that she got looking into another's eyes was truly normal. It would consume her entirely, and she would barely be able to think, barely be able to breathe.

She hated it.

Shyness had caused Joanna a lot of pain in her childhood. Kids would try to befriend her, but be turned off by her inability to talk to them. Some persevered, of course. Those were always the worst, because they always gave up, sometimes just before she'd finally be able to talk to them normally. It hurt every single time. By middle school attempts were sparse, and now in high school they were nonexistent, which was both a blessing and a curse.

But her hero was not stopping.

She was pretty sure by the fifth meeting Orange had figured out what her problem was, because since then it seemed to be his personal goal in life to make her laugh. He'd tell jokes, recount funny stories, and just do or say ridiculous things to get a chuckle out of her. Oftentimes it worked, making her smile and laugh and relax, which always resulted in a happy, proud smile of his own.

She was starting to love that smile.

The sound of the school bell ringing forced Joanna out of her thoughts. Shaking her head, Joanna hoisted her backpack on one shoulder and made for the door.

_Freedom at last!_

"Jojo, hang on a minute, I wanna talk to you."

_Aw man._

Joanna shot the doors to the hall a longing glance before turning back and trudging towards Carl.

Carl was Roosevelt High School's drama teacher. A bald man in his fifties with tattoos covering every visible inch of skin that wasn't his face, he first introduced himself at the yearly opening ceremony by grabbing the microphone from the principal, telling the unruly crowd to shut the fuck up, and adding that anyone who called him anything but Carl would have hell to pay.

Needless to say he was instantly popular with the student body.

"You're trying out for the next play, right?" He asked without preamble, though it was more of a statement than an actual question. When she nodded, he continued with "I want you to go for a bigger role this time."

"A bigger role?" Joanna squeaked.

Carl gave a sharp nod. "You've been in every play since you got here and never done anything bigger than a damn villager. I've seen you practicing. I know what you're capable of. Go for it, kid."

"But I-"

"Let me rephrase that, Jojo." Carl interrupted her, suddenly becoming ten times more intimidating without doing much of anything. He really was an amazing actor. "You're gonna try out for a bigger role next week or you're not gonna be in the play or any other play ever. Are we clear?"

His student nodded her head frantically. "Crystal!"

He snorted and gave her shoulder a light shove. "Get out of here, kid."

Joanna booked it.

* * *

The sound of the front door opening broke Joanna from her 'homework trance'. Pushing the evils of the US government from her lap, she leaped towards her bedroom door and yanked it open. "Hi Dad!" She called out before proceeding to run and tackle said man with a bear hug.

The man let out a loud 'oomph', but the fact that he was smiling and hadn't so much as budged made it obvious that he was hamming it up. "Hey there, Joy." He said as he returned the hug much more gently. "How was school today?" He asked as he pulled away from his daughter.

Jonathan Ward was a giant of a man, well over six feet tall with muscles that could rival a bodybuilder's. His eyes were a deep dark brown, which his short hair and beard mimicked with flashes of silver here and there. One of a precious few people that Joanna was wholly comfortable with, she loved him with all of her heart.

Joanna shrugged. "Pretty boring, for the most part, but Carl said that I had to try for a bigger role in the next play if I ever wanted to act in one again."

"Really?" Her dad was positively beaming as he shrugged out of his jacket. "That's great! I've been wanting to record you in a bigger role since freshman year. It's hard to understand the play when the camera is focused on a villager the whole time."

"You do know you're not supposed to record us, right?" Joanna questioned, eyebrow raised.

"I won't tell if you won't!" Her dad quipped with a goofy grin.

Joanna laughed as she shook her head. "Hopeless. And you were supposed to comfort me, you know." She told him as she made for the couch. She had to shoo the cat from its perch, but the spot was hers in moments. "So how was work? You're home early tonight."

"Quiet, thankfully." He replied, but she noticed him purposefully turning away from her, a sign that he was about to say something unpleasant. Sure enough, after a few strained breaths, he sighed. "We have a job for you."

Hot, sick dread pooled in her throat and stomach. Joanna was glad that her dad was turned away from her at the moment because she could feel the blood draining from her face, rapidly becoming ice in her veins. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" She was impressed with herself for keeping such a steady tone.

Her dad gave a jerky nod. "We didn't want to stress you out too much after what happened to Logan." Her uncle. "We actually wanted to give you more time, but...we need you now. Tonight."

She took a deep, silent breath. "Alright. What's the job?"

"Joy, you know you really don't have to-" He began as he turned to face her.

_Spotlight._

Joanna was off the couch and next to her dad in an instant. "I know, Daddy, I know. But I want to help you. It's okay." She smiled at him and leaned against his arm, prompting him to turn and squeeze her as tightly as he could without risk of hurting her.

"I'm sorry." He told her, voice choked with tears forced back. "I'm so sorry."

She kissed the spot over his heart, unable to reach his face from the angle she was at. "It's okay, Daddy, it's okay." She soothed him, hugging him back. "I'll be fine. Nothing's going to happen to me. You won't let it, right? You'll keep me safe, won't you?"

After a few more heartbeats her dad nodded, and Joanna took that as her cue to pull away. He was wiping his eyes when she asked again, still smiling softly.

"What's the job?"


	3. Holding Out for a Hero

**So I really wanted to try and have no author notes in my stories, but as it turns out I think I'm going to need at least one. **

**First off, I'd like to thank everyone so far who has reviewed, favorited, or followed my story so far. Especially the reviewers. You're my favorites. Really though, thank you to everyone. I wasn't really expecting much of any reaction to this, but as of writing this I have 7 follows, 8 favorites, and 9 reviews. 24 things total! On my first story! When I was expecting none! Holy crap, it means so much to me and motivates me like you wouldn't believe. Thank you all.**

**Secondly, this fic is gonna get dark and I'm near positive I'm gonna have to change the rating to M. This chapter itself is probably pushing the T rating, I'll warn you now. There will be nothing described more graphically in the manner below than what I've written there, but I don't want to risk anything. So I'm really sorry if that scares anyone off, but the rating of this fic will almost definitely change.**

**...Once I figure out how to do so.**

**Finally, I just thought I should clarify that this story takes place in the 2007 movie-verse with a number of elements from the 2003 cartoon and maybe a few from the 2012 cartoon. No one's asked what 'verse this is taking place in yet, but I figured I'd say anyway. Also, I grew up with the 2003 cartoon, and only very very very recently learned about the existence of the other two series. I also haven't watched anything but the movie in a LONG time (not counting a few trailers for the 2012 cartoon), so I'm very liable to make mistakes. If you see anything I do wrong that should be painfully obvious, PLEASE feel free to tell me. **

**...See, this is why I didn't want to make an author's note. I ramble!**

**Oh well.**

**While I'm rambling, my family and I got pizza from a place called Michelangelo's this week. It made me laugh. I've discovered that cliffhangers are fun. I'm hoping that learning what the job is was worth the wait for you all. Writing is fun, but I wish there was a way to transfer the words from your mind to your computer without buttons because my hands keep getting cold.**

**Yeah.**

**Anyway, thank you to all who stuck through that ramble, and please enjoy the story!**

* * *

The sound of her heels seemed loud as gunshots as she raced down the unusually empty street. Her heart pounded wildly against her chest, begging her simultaneously to slow down and to go even faster, to get away. Her lungs burned and her feet ached, but she had to keep going.

"_Your name is Caroline Adams."_

Halting quickly to make an abrupt turn into an alley, she risked a glance over her shoulder. She did not see him, but she heard the heavy thud of boots against concrete. That was enough to send her flying again.

"_You're seventeen, the oldest of four, and planning to leave the state for college when you graduate this year." _

Going through the alley had been a bad idea. It was darker and the ground was uneven and littered with junk, all things that made her risk tripping and falling. But desperation and a need to get to a more populated area were driving her and fueling her less logical thoughts, so she ran for the light at the end of the tunnel.

"_You're coming home after a party with some friends from school and you're a little bit tipsy."_

She stopped again at the end of the alley. The connecting street was just as empty as the previous one. She looked left and right, trying to find somewhere, anywhere with people.

But she was alone.

The three middle fingertips on her right hand nearly bled as she bit down on them hard. Where should she go?

"_When you can't decide something you bite your fingers."_

The decision was made for her when the man stumbled on something behind her and her body instinctively dashed across the street. A muttered curse behind her told her that the man had been close. Far too close.

"_You stutter when nervous."_

She was ducking into another alley before she realized it. This one was even darker than the last, but the heavy footsteps behind her were closer and left no room for turning back. The primal part of her mind screamed that she was being hunted, that she had to escape the predator, had to get refuge, had to find someone to protect her, had to, had to, had to.

"_You're a coward and panic easily."_

She had to stop when the moon showed itself for a moment, revealing something tall and metal just a foot in front of her. She touched it, trying to figure out was it was, only to come to the sinking realization that it was a chain-link fence.

"_The guy we're after is codenamed Chase, because that's what he does."_

She was trapped.

Hands were suddenly on her upper arms, their grip iron. They spun her around so fast that she stumbled and would have fallen had those same hands not grabbed her shoulder and hip and pushed her back into the fence behind her. She found herself staring into bright, wild eyes that matched an equally wild grin.

"I caught you." The man singsonged.

"_He chases down the victim, letting them think they can get away until they're trapped."_

Instinctively she tried to shy away from the crazed man, pushing herself further into the fence and was prevented from going back any more because of it. "P-Please." She stuttered, lungs suddenly unable to take in the oxygen they so desperately needed. "D-Don't hurt m-m-me."

"_He's never done anything more than touch, but he got the daughter of some bigwig politician recently so he's become a top priority."_

"Oh, I promise I won't hurt you." Her captor said in a tone too gleeful to be anything but unsettling. The hand he had on her hip trailed downwards lightly, stopping when it reached the hemline of her dress. It then slipped under and ghosted back up to her hip, where the man began to rub circles on her skin. "In fact, I'm sure you're going to like this quite a lot."

"_Are you ready?"_

"N-No!" She gasped. Her legs were quaking. Honestly, the only thing that kept her standing at this point was the man holding her. But she still tried to struggle, even as the rest of her body began to tremble like her legs did. "Please, n-no!"

"_Okay."_

His hands were slowly wandering towards places that had her mentally screaming. She opened her mouth to do so verbally, but he forced his own onto hers in a painful attempt at a kiss, causing the scream to become a whimper.

"_Spotlight."_

"FREEZE, NYPD!"

Joanna could have sobbed with relief.

Chase was off her in an instant, whipping around to see the police. Joanna had to grip the chain-link fence behind her to keep steady. As soon as her balance had returned she performed a blade kick with her heel to the back of her captor's knee. He went down screaming, and Joanna ran. She ran past him, past the three cops going to restrain the criminal, past the Chief of Department, and only stopped to jump into the waiting arms of her dad.

"I've got you, Joy, I've got you." He whispered into her ear, holding her close and reverently, like she was the greatest and most precious treasure.

To him, she knew she was.

"You've got me, Daddy."

They stayed like that for a while, just breathing and holding each other. They ignored the sirens of the police cars, they ignored the swearing of Chase, they ignored the boom of one of the officers reading out the Miranda rights above the criminal's voice.

What they couldn't ignore was the sound of a gunshot.

Both looked up, startled, but only found Officer Thompson walking towards them as she put her gun away, leaving a screaming Chase clutching the bloody tip of his nose and two bemused policemen behind her.

"Self-defense." She stated.

"Self-defense." Jon Ward agreed readily, and then reluctantly handed the woman his daughter when she held her arms out expectantly.

Said daughter giggled and hugged the officer's neck tightly. Officer Thompson was a person who did not hand out affection often, so when she did it made it about ten times more special, and you knew you had to treasure it.

Her dad continued. "There's a reason your nickname is 'Amazon', you know, and I think you just went and reinforced it. Again."

Amazon was certainly a fitting description for Officer Thompson, who was an even six feet tall and as beautiful and deadly as any of the mythical warriors could be. "Good. They've been getting too relaxed around me lately." She responded as she set Joanna back on her feet. She ruffled the girl's hair. "How you doing, Jailbait?"

"I'm fine." Joanna told her, trying to fix her hair before she remembered it was a wig. She yanked it off and shook her real hair out of its bun, happy when her head suddenly felt much cooler. She put the dark-haired wig into Officer Thompson's waiting hand. The colored contacts, the bracelet with the tracking device, the necklace with the cameras, and the earrings with the recording devices followed right after.

The woman nodded and left them, replaced moments later by the Chief. "Sir." Joanna's dad said to him, while Joanna herself nodded politely at the wiry man. It was a strange and rare thing for him to show up.

"Officer Ward, Miss Ward." The man replied as he nodded at each of them in turn. "Thank you for your efforts today. If not for them it undoubtedly would have taken us much longer to catch this crook." He glanced to the side, where a struggling Chase was being put into a cruiser, before he turned his attention to his subordinate's daughter. "Miss Ward, how are you doing? It's been quite some time since your last job, and I'm afraid we were a little later than we should have been reaching you."

Joanna was never quite sure what to think of Chief. On one hand, he let her do this job. On the other hand...he let her do this job.

"I'm fine, sir." She repeated.

The older man nodded, seeming appeased. "Very well. The usual statements, I suppose?" When they nodded, he smiled at them. "You two are dismissed, then. We'll take care of things." He nodded politely once more and left.

Joanna's dad took her hand and led her to one of the police cruisers. "C'mon, Joy. Let's go home."

* * *

Joanna knew this next scene well.

They would walk into the apartment and she would barely have time to kick off her shoes before her dad was looking over her, trying to see where she was hurt and if she was okay. She would always give him something to fuss over, a bruise or soreness or a scrape, even if it was false, because she knew that the ability to help calmed him down. He would guide her, sometimes carry her, to the couch before heading to the kitchen to find any medical supplies needed.

In this case he came back with ice for the bruises she felt forming on her upper arms. He would always sit beside her and Joanna would make no move to resist or help her dad when he began to patch her up. This part was always done in complete silence.

Eventually her dad would finish, and Joanna would set the supplies to the side before sitting herself in his lap and hugging him like she used to as a child. She would be hugged back, and he would whisper reassurances to her, telling her that she was safe now, that he loved her, and Joanna would respond in kind.

At some point they would find themselves full on the couch, Joanna laying on top of her dad. She would rest her head over his heart and feign sleep, and eventually he would fall into a real one. She'd get off him carefully, being sure not to wake him, make sure he was comfortable, and then head to her bedroom and close the door softly behind her.

And then finally, in the darkness of her room with the spotlight gone, Joanna would break.

_OhGodohGodnohetouchedmehetouchedmehetouchedmeno-_

Her legs gave out from under her and she slid down her door, whole body shaking. The hip and shoulder that man had touched felt as if they were branded, searing and agonizing down to the very bones. There wasn't enough air no matter how much or how fast she tried to fill her lungs.

She was so scared.

With a skill that came from practice Joanna forced herself to take measured, deep breaths before she risked hyperventilating. She made her legs work and stood shakily, before staggering to the bathroom. She threw off her clothes and nearly fell into the shower, turning on the cold water, and then scrubbed desperately at the black, filthy spots where that man had touched her.

The bar of soap was almost gone by the time she was done. Joanna trembled more from cold and shock than fear when she finally stepped out of the bathroom, and managed to get into her bed without falling. Bile was forced back down her throat as images of what could have been flew across her mind. She gasped and cried into her pillow, wordlessly begging it all to go away.

Sleep would not take her that night.

* * *

"That will be $7.96, sir."

The fact that it was Saturday had its up and downs. On the plus side it meant that there was no school that day and all she had to worry about was her job at Luigi's. This meant she could 'sleep in' and avoid talking to her dad about last night. He always liked to try and do that, even when all Joanna wanted to do was push the event far away from her mind.

On the downside, Joanna had to work at Luigi's. While she really did love her plain, uninteresting, average, everyday job, the day after one of her other jobs was always an off day. Her focus would be nonexistent, she'd be too jumpy, and physical contact with men was just a bad idea. But calling in sick was an even worse idea than going in, so go to work she did.

Joanna handed the customer their change and began to trace patterns in the grain of the counter. She was not really in the job for the money. Maybe she would have been a few years ago, would they have hired her at that age. Now it was just for the normalcy, the beautiful illusion that she was just a normal teenaged girl and not some police-affiliated vigilante who went around chasing –

– there was green hand being waved in her face.

_Oh. Oh!_

She jerked up straight so fast it nearly knocked her off the stool. "Oh! Hi. Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Hoping her smile didn't look too fake, Joanna asked him "How are you?"

Orange said nothing. For a long moment there was nothing but silence from him, something quite uncharacteristic from what she'd learned so far. He had never seemed capable of not talking when the opportunity came up, as if he had spent his whole life mute and could finally speak. But now the quiet stretched between them was so vast that she almost broke it herself, just to stop the suffocating feeling.

Then he asked her so quietly, so gently. "What's wrong?"

And the dam broke.

Tears flooded Joanna's eyes at her hero's concerned tone. Her shoulders shook and it was difficult to breathe normally. It took all of her willpower not to curl over and sob aloud right then and there. As it was her throat was tight, but for once, there was no shyness.

The turtle, for his part, acted like he was completely out of his element. He babbled nonsensically, alternating between asking his original question and apologizing over and over. His hands kept reaching towards Joanna then pulling back suddenly, as if he wanted to embrace her but couldn't find the courage to actually do it. It really would have been quite endearing, were she not so focused on fighting back her tears.

After a few more repetitions of this Orange finally seemed to come to a decision. He leaned over the counter and gripped her arms with a strength that surprised her. Somehow she did not flinch. "The alley. After work. I'll be there."

Joanna stared at the shadow of his face for a few heartbeats before nodding.

So would she.


	4. Holding On to a Hero

She really didn't want to go in there.

It wasn't an aversion to seeing Orange, of course. He and the others had saved her uncle, and she had more than a healthy dose of hero worship for all of them. She would do just about anything for them. The fact that he wanted to talk to her outside of work, where there was no time limit, made her want to bounce off the walls with glee.

No, it was more the alley itself that made Joanna want to run away. She'd gotten molested in one of those just last night, and she was not fond of the thought of going in one again so soon.

"Psssssst!"

The obnoxiously loud hiss nearly made Joanna jump out of her skin. The sight of a bright raincoat being waved from behind a dumpster, the same one Orange had been wearing that day, nearly made her laugh. "Psssssst! Over here!"

Fear abruptly gone, Joanna made her way into the alley. The coat disappeared before she was able to look around the edge of the dumpster, and when she did she found Orange, dressed just as he had been earlier that day. "Hey!" He greeted her cheerily, and Joanna couldn't help but smile at him.

She wasn't sure how to ask him what he wanted, and he didn't seem to know how to ask it either, so for a while they just stood there awkwardly. Sooner than she expected, though, her hero steeled himself and asked her once more. "What's wrong?"

Habit made her want to tell him that she was fine. There was nothing to worry about, sorry to bother you, have a nice day. But she knew she couldn't lie to him. Not to one of the four who had saved the life of one of the people closest to her heart. Not to him. She could never lie to him.

But she couldn't tell him the truth, either.

"I got attacked last night." She ended up blurting out. It was not a lie. Simply not the whole truth.

The turtle in front of her stiffened at that confession and grabbed her arms again with a strong grip. Joanna was surprised to see that she also did not flinch this time, not even from the bruises she'd gotten last night. "What!? Who?! Are you okay?!"

"I don't know who." She would be told later, she was sure, when her dad tried to talk to her about the job, but for the moment she was in the dark. "The police got him before he could really do anything." At this fact her hero seemed to sag in relief. She was only half aware of this, however, and she kept going. "He just grabbed me and whispered in my ear that we were gonna play a game, and that if I could outrun him I would win. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could. But I just wasn't fast enough. No matter how far or fast I ran he was right there behind me, just short of reaching me until the very end, and I was trapped, and he caught me, and..."

The words caught in her throat. Joanna wasn't sure when she had ended up crying into the poor turtle's chest, but that's where she found herself when she stopped her babbling. She couldn't stop the tears though. "It was so scary..." She sobbed into his coat before giving up coherency. The memories flew across her mind and she could do nothing to stop them.

Her jobs were always terrifying. The fact was as constant and as obvious as the sky was above her and the ground was below. The knowledge never made it any better. The aftershocks of what happened always got to her and she always ended up being some broken wreck on the bathroom floor. Without fail.

And she hated it.

She wasn't even the one really doing the jobs. Last night it had been Caroline Adams who did the deed. Right before the break it had been Roxanne Kent. The time before that it was Jennifer Thornton. It was never Joanna Ward who was chased by molesters and rapists, but it was always Joanna Ward who suffered.

Joanna wanted to be strong. She didn't want to be a person who shivered in fear when a guy gave her a pat on the back, the girl who constantly looked over her shoulder at night. She wanted to be the kind of person who could look in the face of danger without flinching. Who could give up her life for the greater good without a second thought. A hero.

But she wasn't.

And she hated it.

"What did one ocean say to the other?"

The question was so random it startled Joanna out of her thoughts. "What?"

"Nothing, it just waved. What do you call a deer with no eyes?"

Joanna moved back slightly to look Orange in the face, but the darkness let her see nothing but the fact that it was angled to look back at her. "What are you–"

"No eye deer!" He interrupted her and then fired off again without pause. "What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?"

A laugh startled its way out of her. "What–"

"Still no eye deer! What do you call a short psychic escaped from prison?"

She couldn't stop her giggles at this point. "I don't–"

"A small medium at large! What kind of music do mummies listen to? Wrap! Where do you take a sick boat? To the doc! What did the grape say after it got sat on? Nothing, it just let out a little wine! What did people say about the pony with a cough? That he was a little hoarse!"

The bad jokes went on and on until Joanna was no longer crying from memories but from laughter. "Mercy, mercy!" She wheezed as she slid to the ground, unable to support herself any longer. "I can't breathe!"

Orange radiated so much pride and smugness it was almost visible when he leaned down to help her stand. He held her up until her legs decided to cooperate with her. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all night."

"What was that about?" Joanna asked when her legs finally supported her again and her lungs no longer burned from lack of air. It had all been so sudden that she couldn't think of anything that would have prompted the jokes.

The shadows left his face just enough to see his grin. "Got you to smile."

Realization struck Joanna like lightening. _He was trying to make me feel better._ She thought as her admiration for the turtle-man skyrocketed. _What a wonderful person!_ "Thank you." She told him, having to stop herself from gushing about how great he was. It was too late at night to list all the reasons.

"Anytime." Orange replied as he began to walk, passing by Joanna. He paused after a few steps, tilting his head towards the street and back. "C'mon. I'll walk you home."

The sensible part of her brain told her that she should turn him down, as he surely had more important things to do than escort her home. She couldn't make herself listen to that part. "Thank you." She said again as she went to catch up to him.

"Anytime." He repeated, and they walked out of the alley together.

It wasn't long before they paused again, by the fault of Joanna. She and Orange had met in the second alley from the night they originally met, the one with the fire escape. Last time she had run through another alley to get to it, but this time she had taken a long detour to avoid it, as she was not ready to walk through an alley then. But now, even though she could not listen to the part of her that said to refuse Orange's escort, she could not ignore the part of her that said taking the detour would be an enormous waste of his time.

_I'm being ridiculous,_ Joanna thought as she did not move, _I was just in an alley before and now I have Orange with me. There is no reason for me to be hesitating. There is no–_

"Race you."

Suddenly Orange was sprinting ahead, and Joanna found herself dashing to keep up with him without thought. He was really very impressive. He jumped over trashcans, did several flips and fancy moves, and even did the home stretch entirely backwards. It was all Joanna could do just to stay within reach. "Ha! I win!" Cheered her hero when they reached the end.

Joanna had to put her hands on her knees and just breathe. "That...you...did." She agreed when air wasn't quite so elusive. Orange was very fast, and he couldn't have been going full speed if she had been so close to him the whole time. She glanced over her shoulder to see just how far they ran. Why did he–

–they were through the alley.

She didn't have the breath to thank him again before he was pulling her along.

"So did I ever tell you about the tenth Justice Force issue?" Orange asked as he pulled Joanna to his right side.

It took a few seconds for Joanna to respond, too stunned by the fact that her hero was holding her hand to form words. Eventually she managed. "No, you had to leave just after you finished the ninth."

During one conversation at Luigi's her hero had brought up that he had gotten the newest issue of a comic book series, one starring a group called the Justice Force. Joanna was clueless as to what he had been talking about, which had horrified Orange. He'd promptly declared that this tragedy needed to be mended, and that he would graciously accept the arduous task of mentoring her in the majesty of the Justice Force...though he'd said it in much smaller words.

She'd picked up a comic since then, but she hadn't found it to her liking. The storyline was basic at best, and the art had all been far too dramatic-looking for her to take seriously. But she loved hearing Orange talk about them. There was such an eagerness and pure joy in his voice whenever he spoke of them, and she was sure if she could ever see his eyes they would be bright and shining like stars. He had a way of making the mediocre story seem like an epic, and he had hooked her in a roundabout way.

"Right!" Orange said, apparently just remembering that. "Well, after Stainless Steel Steve defeated the Evil Overlord and earned a kiss from Battling Bernice, Dr. Dome returned to the Hideout in a rage. He couldn't believe that Stainless Steel Steve got a kiss from Battling Bernice, especially after he had just confessed his love to her."

Both danced around a puddle from the night's earlier rain. "But weren't they both unconscious for that?" Questioned Joanna as she tugged Orange's hand towards the street. They needed to cross it.

"They were," Orange agreed when they crossed the street, moving to Joanna's other side, "but Dr. Dome didn't know it. The gas from the Doom Boomer made him see things. Apparently he was allergic."

Joanna had to wonder how someone would make a weapon they were allergic to. Even if they had been brainwashed into making it. Mentally mourning the loss of contact with his hand, she asked Orange. "What happened next?"

"Well, he started working on some new gadget. It wasn't revealed what it was, but Dr. Dome was muttering about how he would make them pay for their betrayal. Then it cut to Joey Lastic and Metal Head, both recovering in the infirmary."

"Joey lived?" Joanna said as they crossed another street. "But he got run through with the Evil Overlord's sword!"

Orange switched sides again. _Why does he keep doing that?_ "Joey Lastic found in a split second discovery that he could move his insides without stretching the outside of his body. He was able to do it just in time to save himself from instant death. It was still close though."

"Wow, that's great timing." She thought aloud, motioning to Orange that they once again had to cross the road. It was a really long confusing walk between her home and work. She had gotten so lost the first few times.

Her hero nodded. "No kidding. If he hadn't learned that he would have been a shishkebob!" He moved to her right side again once they crossed.

_Really, why does he keep doing that? It's starting to bug – wait._

Every time he moved he went to stand between her and the alleyways.

And here she had thought that her respect and adoration for him couldn't get any higher.

It was a long walk made all too short with company. Joanna and Orange reached the apartment just as the latter finished telling what happened in the tenth issue of Justice Force. Joanna stopped before the door and turned to her hero. "Thank you so much. For everything." She thanked him for the third time that night.

"Anytime." He responded in kind with a fancy bow. "Hamato Michelangelo at your service!"

Joanna nearly gaped at that. He gave her his name. He gave her his _name_.

There had been a sort of unspoken rule with him that he did not say much about himself. That he did not say anything about himself. He acted as if it were him alone who had saved her uncle, that there were no other three turtles that helped. And Joanna did not ask. She did not correct him that her uncle had been rescued by four turtles. She did not ask where he went or what he did when she did not see him. She did not push, refused to push, did not want to push and risk pushing him away.

But here he was, looking at her curiously with his name still ringing in the air.

"Hamato..." Joanna tried the name out. "I've never heard that name before."

Hamato stood straight, and she got the impression that he was raising an eyebrow at her. Suddenly he threw back his head and laughed. "Oh! No, no, sorry. Last name comes first. I'm Michelangelo. Mikey."

"Mikey..." She tried again. The name suited him, both the long and short versions. She pointed to herself. He had never asked for her named before, probably so that she didn't ask the same question in return, but now she could finally tell him without any worries. "Joanna."

"Anna..." Mikey muttered, obviously having misheard her. Joanna wanted to laugh. Out of all the possible nicknames that could be made from her name, he had stumbled across the one that she hated the most. Yet somehow she did not mind in the slightest. Her hero nodded his head. "Goodnight, Anna."

Joanna smiled back. "Goodnight, Mikey."

Mikey turned to leave, and Joanna had a sudden rush of emotions. She did not want him to leave. She did not want to be left alone right then. She wanted to get to know him, as much as he would let her. It was these feelings that gave Joanna the courage to ask him one question.

"Would you...would you like to come in for a bit?"


	5. The Hero Pays a Visit

He had turned her down, of course.

Joanna was disappointed, but not surprised. It really had been a long shot after all. He'd walked her home and given her his name, sure, but that didn't automatically mean that he was comfortable with hanging out for a long period of time, especially when they probably would have been talking mostly. He might have slipped something on accident, and he wouldn't want to risk that. And he probably had a lot more important things to do than hang out with her. Like saving people. Or sleeping. Sleeping was very important.

She groaned as she slipped into her nightgown. Sleep sounded like a wonderful idea, but she doubted she would get any for a while. The apartment was too empty. Her cat was out in the main room, of course, but it wasn't quite the same. She wanted someone she could talk with. Some she knew could and would protect her. Like her dad. Why did he have to work such late shifts?

Joanna didn't want to be alone.

Whether she wanted it or not, though, for the next several hours she was. Joanna sighed aloud and made her way to the kitchen. Maybe dinner would help. Dozing off was usually easier on a full stomach, unhealthy as it supposedly was. Tea would be good too.

She made it halfway there before she decided that she really didn't feel like setting off the fire alarm that night. Instead she made her way to the couch, flopping down and looking up at the ceiling. Maybe if she stared at it long enough she would fall asleep.

Unfortunately for her, she was still awake twenty minutes later. Groaning, she launched herself off the couch with an enthusiasm she regretted. If she couldn't will herself to sleep maybe enough physical exhaustion would let her pass out. She hadn't tried to beat her record in DDR in a while. Surely that would work.

She was just choosing a song when a strong knock came from the front door. Joanna frowned. Who would be out at this hour? It wouldn't be her dad. He had keys so he would have just walked right in, or he would have called her if he'd lost them. The neighbors were out of town and Logan had been texting her all week about how excited he was for a date today, which for his sake she hoped hadn't ended yet. So who was it? Curious, if a bit cautious, Joanna went over to the door and stood on her tiptoes to look out the peephole.

It was Orange.

The door was opened so fast that she found her hero paused with his hand raised to knock again. "Uh, hi." Was Joanna's eloquent greeting.

"Hi." Orange – Mikey – answered back, sounding a little sheepish. "That offer still open?"

Throat closed from shock and not shyness for once, Joanna stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"Thanks." He told her as he went through the doorway. He paused next to Joanna to put something soft and warm in her arms which she struggled to hold, unprepared for it as she was. "Here, for you. I get the feeling this'll make you happy."

When her grip was firm, she peered down to see what was in her arms, confused as to what Mikey could have brought. Big, bright green eyes stared back at her. The orange ball of fluff in her arms mewed at her before standing in her arms as best as it was able and rubbing its face against her own, purring loudly as it did.

Joanna's heart melted.

Mikey laughed, probably at whatever her expression had become. "I remember you mentioned that you liked cats, so I thought I'd bring mine over. His name's Klunk. I think he likes you."

The sound of his voice snapped Joanna out of her enamored daze. "Klunk? Why did you name him Klunk?"

As if to answer her question, the cat wriggled in her arms until he broke free of her hold. He did not land on his feet, ending up on the floor with a inelegant 'thud'. The cat looked bewildered and his owner laughed. "Because he's the klutziest cat you'll ever see. First thing I ever saw him do was make an avalanche of scrap metal in the junkyard. It went 'klunk'."

Well, he was very straightforward in his naming. It was kind of cute though. And very unique. "Hopefully my cat gets along with him. She can be awfully moody." Joanna said as she crouched down to pet Klunk, who eagerly accepted the affection.

"You have a cat?" Asked her hero.

"Didn't I mention?" She could have sworn she had. "Her name is Hana. My uncle named her. It means-"

"Flower." Mikey finished for her.

"Y...Yes." She had almost asked him 'You know Japanese?'. Close call. "He got her for me for my first play, when I joked that I hoped someone would give me flowers afterward. Dork that he is, my uncle got me a cat named flower instead."

The turtle chuckled at that. She'd had a feeling that he would appreciate that kind of joke. "So where is your cat?"

Joanna shrugged. "Somewhere around here. She's never liked strangers much, but curiosity always ends up getting the better of her – oh, there she is now."

Hana was a very pretty cat. Overweight, as just about all house cats were, but only enough that it made her look fluffier than she otherwise would have. Her coat was white except for the tip of her tail, a patch over her eye and ear, and funny enough some marks on her side that resembled a flower, all of which were black. The flower mark was probably why Logan had gotten her in the first place. Her yellow eyes observed the scene, judgmental in the way only a cat could be.

Klunk got to his feet and stared.

Hana noticed the feline guest and sauntered over to him, stopping when she was in front of his face. She circled him slowly once, then a second time before she paused in front of his face again. Klunk remained still as stone. Hana's tail twitched, and she leaned forward to lick right between the tom cat's eyes. He got that bewildered look on his face again, and Joanna had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing.

The mostly white cat turned and padded away then, only to pause. Hana looked back at him, then mewed and flicked her tail as if to say 'Well? Are you coming?'. Klunk scrambled to catch up and they left together, headed to Joanna's father's room.

Neither cat owner could suppress their laughter then. "I think they'll get along just fine." Mikey said when his guffaws died down to chuckles.

Joanna, who had just gotten her laughter under control, burst out in giggles again. "Yeah, I have a feeling those two are going to be great friends."

The laughter finally died and the two were left in an awkward silence. Joanna wasn't sure what to do. "May I take your coat?" She finally managed.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, sure, thanks." He said absentmindedly, not looking at her. He shrugged off the raincoat and gently tossed it at Joanna, who caught it easily. She went down the hall to put in the closet, and took a deep breath after she did. Never in a million years would she have thought that she'd actually have her hero in her home. Yet he was there, just around the corner. She rounded it and –

_EEP! HE'S HALF NAKED! ...Wait, he's a turtle-man. Does it even count as being naked?_

For the sake of her sanity she decided it didn't.

She couldn't help but take a second to observe him though.

He really was a turtle-man, she noted. Not that she had doubted her uncle, but it was still a sight. From the angle Mikey was standing at she could just barely see the back of his shell, and it was larger than she would have thought. His skin – scales – were a deep sea green, and Joanna could make out a few pale ridges of what she guessed were scars along his strong arms. His chest was covered in yellowish plates that she imagined would have been the bottom of the shell on a normal turtle, and that also had grooves and bits chipped off, more scars. His face was finally fully in the light, and she could see that he had no hair or ears, or what she would call a nose. His blue eyes were piercing even without being directed at her, scanning the room with a seriousness she didn't really associate with him. On his face he wore a mask of sorts, and Joanna suddenly realized why he seemed to make it a point to wear orange at all times. It was _his_ color.

_Did he want me to associate it with him?_

But she only observed him for a second.

"I...really don't know what to do now." Joanna admitted as she shuffled her feet and turned her gaze to the floorboards. She really didn't. She'd never had a friend over to her house before, let alone someone she considered a hero. What was she supposed to do? Offer food and a drink? He'd just bought pizza that night though...

"Really?" Joanna glanced up to find that Mikey looked just as surprised as his voice sounded. "But you must have a lot of other friends coming over all the time!"

Her heart skipped several beats in succession from the fact that he basically admitted they were friends. "No." She told him as she shook her head, face flushed a bit from her previous thought and what she was about to say. "I...don't really have any friends." She had her family, of course, and friends of her father and people from 'work' that she was friendly with, but friends her own age was something that Joanna was distinctly lacking.

Mikey seemed like he couldn't comprehend why that would be. It actually made her feel a bit better. "What? Why not?"

She shrugged. "I'm a bastard."

The look on his face nearly made her laugh. In fact, she did. Loudly.

The sound seemed to break him out of his stupor. His jaw snapped shut with an audible click. "Dude..." He muttered, still wide-eyed. "I totally did not take you for the swearing type."

Joanna shrugged again, giggles mostly gone by this point. "I'm a teenager and a New Yorker. Of course I swear." Not very often, admittedly, but if his reaction was so amusing every time she just might have to reconsider that.

"But you're definitely not a..." His mouth opened and closed a few times before he gave up and gestured towards her, apparently unable to say the word. That made Joanna laugh all over again.

When she got herself under control she shrugged once more. "It's what all the other kids at school think, at least. Whenever they tried to talk to me I couldn't answer them, and they thought I was just being snobby and ignoring them. And I couldn't even correct them. I just couldn't speak. So they all gave up trying and I ended up friendless."

"But you're so nice!" Mikey protested as if that would be reason enough for people to keep talking to her.

"You thought I didn't want to talk to you at first either, remember?" Joanna pointed out, though it warmed her heart to him say that. Her guest flinched. "It's not a matter of niceness, really. People just don't like getting hurt, and that's how they always feel after they try to talk to me. No one is able to stick around long enough for me to be able to talk normally with them." It was a saddening truth, but understandable.

Mikey looked puzzled. "But...you're talking to me normally, aren't you?" He asked slowly, almost hesitant.

Joanna smiled, the expression joyous and grateful all at once. "I am." She agreed. "You were the first to try and know me long enough that I became comfortable. I'm not shy around you anymore. You managed to break me out of my shell..." Her grin turned to a playful smirk as she pointedly glanced to his back. "...pun intended."

Her hero gaped at her for a heartbeat before he burst out in laughter, happy and amused by the joke as Joanna knew he would be. Mikey liked those sorts of jokes, the silly groan-inducing ones. His laugh was infectious and she couldn't help but join in the mirth. They laughed so hard that Joanna was sure her neighbors would have complained if were they home. They laughed so much that tears were in their eyes and their stomachs ached and they could barely breathe but they couldn't stop anyway. They laughed together, long and loud and pointlessly, and Joanna hadn't felt so happy in years.

Ice broken, Joanna asked with a grin. "Do you play DDR?"


	6. Heroes Play DDR, Apparently

**So yeah. I imagine I've got some 'splainin' to do. **

**Long story short, technology hates me. My computer basically crashed. I had to use the school computers until I got a new one, and then when I did get a new one classes started giving me a hard time. Yeesh. Anyway, when it crashed it took everything with it. Which includes absolutely everything I had for this fic. Since I'm the kind of idiot who never backs anything up, everything that I had for this piece is gone. Every bit. And I was almost done writing it too! So, understandably, I got rather upset. I couldn't even look at this without getting depressed. I remember most of the plot, thankfully, but I am the slowest writer ever and I am still sad about losing all this so updates on this from now on will be much, much slower. I'll probably also be focusing on other stuff more than this, so keep that in mind.**

**Wow, so much for a long story short.**

**I'm really really sorry about all this. It stinks so much that this happened with my first long fic too. Way to start a Fanfiction career, huh? But I'm sorry to any of you that have been waiting for this. If there is anyone. Either way, thank you for understanding, I'm sorry that this happened, and please enjoy what is essentially fluffy filler.**

* * *

They were surprisingly well matched.

Mikey had a natural talent for games like DDR, it seemed. It shouldn't have been all that surprising. She had seen how he could move during that race in the alley, after all. Not to mention that anyone who could take down twenty plus gang members, with help or no, had to have some staggering amount of coordination and amazing reflexes. Yet Joanna still couldn't help but gape at him as he skillfully got near flawless scores on even the hardest of songs. Sometimes on his hands, the showoff.

If anything it was more surprising that Joanna was winning about half of the time. He wasn't going easy on her, she could tell. There was no twitchy feeling through her body that would have indicated such. Somehow she managed to keep up with him, and even if the game had been made for her and she had practiced all the songs until she could practically do them with her eyes closed, Joanna would have thought that he'd outclass her. But strangely he didn't. Regardless of false assumptions, their equal skill level made the game a challenge, which made it a lot more fun.

"Looks like we're tied now." Mikey pointed out as they finished another song.

"Are you sure? I thought you were beating me by one." Joanna questioned as she collapsed back on the couch, breathless. While she and her hero might have been equal in skill, Mikey definitely possessed far more stamina than her. He hadn't even broken a sweat. _Can reptiles sweat at all?_

"Nope, we've both won four so far." The turtle replied with a shake of his head. "One more to determine the winner?"

Joanna nodded and stood. She had enough in her for one more round. "Sure. Whose turn was it to pick the song again?"

"Dunno. You choose, I won the last one."

Joanna stepped back onto the dance pad and shuffled through the songs on the game. There were a lot of them, so it made the choice hard. "You sure there's not anything you want to dance to?" She asked after she had moved past about half the songs in the game.

"Nope." Mikey responded, popping the P. "I don't even know what songs this game has. Don't most DDR games have a lot of Japanese songs? Mine does."

Joanna shrugged as she passed over a few more songs. "My uncle made this game for me as a birthday present last year. He put on a lot of songs that I like so that I could dance to them."

"Your uncle makes games?" Mikey looked both surprised and curious.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's part of his job. He works at Zephyr Industries, you know that company that's basically started to take over ever since Winters Corp went to pieces? He does a lot of crazy stuff with electronics that I can't even begin to understand, and videogames are just a part of it." Her uncle was a huge genius...and an even bigger dork. Working with the Japanese so often had made him a...what was the term? An otaku? Whatever it was, he was an even bigger dork than he used to be, which was terrifying in its own right. She'd thought it was impossible.

Mikey whistled, impressed. "That's awesome. I wish I knew someone who could do that. My bro – brain just isn't made for that sort of thing."

With a practiced ease Joanna ignored the slip-up. "It's certainly useful when the computers won't work. Oh, here's a good song." She commented as she finally found a song that she felt would be fun.

Mikey raised an...eyeridge? An eyeridge at her song choice. "Devil's Dance Floor by Flogging Molly? You sure have a lot of music that I wouldn't have expected you to like on here."

"You took me for the classicals, show tunes, musicals kind of girl, didn't you?" Asked Joanna as she started the song. It started out as a simple beat that quickly became more fast-paced and complex, and the two began moving their legs in sync to match the rhythm of the arrows.

"A bit, yeah." He sounded quite sheepish.

Joanna let out an understanding laugh, not at all offended and seeing where he was coming from. Sometimes her taste in music surprised even herself. "Don't get me wrong, I love those too. I could probably put on a one-man performance of Phantom of the Opera I know the play and its songs so well. But when it comes to dancing and the music I listen to in my free time, I like it fast," she paused as a rather tricky part came up, "I like it angry," she looked over at Mikey and did the next bit from memory, just because, "and I like it loud." She finished with a large grin.

Mikey glanced over to her and playfully narrowed his eyes when he saw that she wasn't even looking at the screen. "Oh, that's how it'd gonna be, huh? Well, let's see about this!"

In the blink of an eye Mikey was gone from her field of vision and her feet were off the ground. She squeaked and looked to the side to find herself in the arms of her hero, bridal-style, while the turtle continued dancing to the song with an unrepentant smirk. "Mikey! No fair, put me down!"

The smirk morphed to a full-blown grin, but he did not put her down. They finished the game that way, Joanna protesting in Mikey's arms while he just smiled and laughed and danced. "Ha! I win!" He cheered when the song ended.

"But you cheated!" Joanna protested. "And finished the song on MY dance pad!"

Mikey looked down. "Huh. Well what do you know?" He glanced back up at Joanna with a hopeful grin. "Wanna call it a tie?"

Joanna rolled her eyes, but she had to chuckle at that. "Sure. Now put me down please?" The fact that her hero was holding her slammed into her all of a sudden and Joanna felt herself turn the same color as a tomato. "Please?" She repeated in a high-pitched tone.

Thankfully for the sake of her sanity Mikey placed her down after that. "Should we eat now? I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Images of her many failed cooking attempts floated through her mind's eye, causing Joanna to cringe. "Sure, but I should warn you that my skill in the kitchen is lethal – wait, didn't you eat that pizza you bought today? That thing was huge!" She knew that teenage boys were infamous for those bottomless pits that they called stomachs, but surely he couldn't have finished that much more than an hour ago. Though Joanna had to wonder if he even was a teenager. He sounded and acted like one, but there were very few things she truly knew about him. Either way, did he really have such a high metabolism that he needed to eat again so soon, exercise or not?

"What?" His expression was as puzzled as his voice. "No, I brought the pizza here, see?" He pointed over to the kitchen, where a pizza box from Luigi's rested on top of the dining table that was never actually used for dining. "I figured we could eat that, though I guess it might be a little cold by now."

_Oh. Wow, I'm unobservant._ "Alright, sounds good. Besides, cold pizza's good too, or there's always the microwave if you want it warmed up." Granted Joanna's diet basically screamed that she wasn't supposed to have things like pizza at all, hot or cold, but she couldn't turn down a kindness from her hero.

Both grabbed a slice (or three in Mikey's case) and sat back on the couch at Joanna's direction. "So you're a bad cook?" The turtle asked between bites. He seemed rather intrigued for some reason or another.

Joanna ducked her head when she felt her face begin to burn. "Yeah, it's awful. You think people who say they burn water are joking until you find out you're one of them." That had been an interesting night. "Irony of all ironies that I work at a restaurant, huh? Nobody lets me anywhere near the kitchen if it can be helped."

Mikey laughed at that, though not unkindly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like my – myself when I was younger. Put me anywhere near the kitchen and something bad was bound to happen. I can't even tell you how often the toaster got busted. That poor, poor toaster..."

The girl ignored the slip-up once again and giggled at the mental image. "It seems to run in the family with me, because none of us can cook to save our lives. It's a wonder we've survived so long." It really was a wonder. Officer Thompson cooking on her frequent visits was probably the only thing that kept them from starving some nights, because she knew their problem and would always make a ridiculous amount of food that led to more leftovers than she claimed to be willing to take home.

There was silence for a couple of moments before Mikey replied. "I could teach you sometime, if you want."

That simple offer hit Joanna particularly hard. Not so much that he was offering to assist her in a hopeless endeavor as much as the implications behind it. To teach her how to cook would mean that he would have to visit her at her house. To _come back_. He was willing to do that, to talk to her and spend time with her besides this one occasion that she'd thought would never happen in a million years. To some extent he _trusted_ her, and it made Joanna indescribably happy. "I'd like that." She told him as she hid her smile behind her hand.

"Great!" Mikey replied, and the girl looked up to find him smiling. "That should be a fun challenge. I've never taught anyone to cook before. By the way, where do I put this?" He held up his plate, devoid of any pizza.

_Wow, he's a fast eater. _"Here, I've got it." She took the plate from him and walked over to the sink and placed the dishes in it. Their dishwasher was currently out of commission and Logan hadn't visited them in a few days. That guy could fix just about anything. "When do you think you'd be able to teach me?" She asked as she reached to turn on the water.

"When's good for you?"

Joanna let out a shriek and whirled around, nearly falling in the process. Lucky for her Mikey was right behind her and caught her hand before she hit the floor. Though it had been him that almost made her do it in the first place. She hadn't even known he was behind her, he moved so quietly. Like a ghost or something. "Thanks." Joanna breathed as she straightened, the surprise taking her voice.

But Mikey didn't respond, focused on something else. Joanna followed his gaze to find him staring at her arm. The sleeve on her nightgown had risen enough to show the bruise that it had been hiding. "I thought you said he didn't do anything to you." His voice was quiet, and there was an undertone she wasn't quite sure what to make of.

"He didn't, really." Joanna said as she pulled away. It took a few tries. "I just got them when he grabbed me once. They don't hurt at all." Not even when they'd been touched before, strangely. Maybe they weren't as deep as she originally thought.

"They?" He still had that undertone.

Joanna nodded and went back to sit on the couch. "There's a matching one on my other arm. But they don't hurt, I promise." They honestly didn't. Terrifying as it had been, as it still was, it could have been so much worse, and she was grateful that it wasn't. She couldn't lie to her hero, after all.

Mikey sat down next to her and let out a low sigh. "Sorry."

_What?_ "What for?"

He looked away from her and chuckled darkly. It scared her a little. "I was there for your uncle, but not for you. You called me your hero once, but what kind of hero can't protect his number one fan?"

Joanna was unsure how to respond to that. Mikey was only – well, he wasn't _human_, per se, but he certainly wasn't omnipotent. She knew that and understood quite well. "Mikey," she said as she grabbed his hand, which made him turn to look at her, "it's fine. I didn't really get hurt and the police got the guy. It's not like it's your fault I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, you're just one guy. You can't be saving everyone everywhere all the time."

He flinched, so she must have said something wrong, but she didn't know what else she could say to make it better. She looked down, trying to think of something, anything to say, but got distracted by the sight of her hand on his own.

His hand was cold, which made her think that maybe he was cold-blooded like an actual turtle. That, or he was true to the saying 'cold hands, warm heart'. He had no nails on any of his three fingers, and his scales were so small that she had to focus as to not mistake it for green skin. The color was a fascinating contrast to her own. His hand was also much larger than hers, and much stronger looking. There was a scar running down what she supposed was the equivalent of his pinky. _I wonder what caused that?_ Unthinking, she opened her mouth to ask.

"Can I?"

Joanna snapped out of her thoughts to find Mikey's other hand reaching towards her, specifically her hair. The girl blinked to make sure she was seeing things right before she smiled and nodded. Thank goodness she hadn't asked – she'd almost broken her own most important rule.

Mikey smiled back. "Thanks." He reached over, slowly as if he thought she might change her mind, then ran his hand though her hair and over her head, like she was a cat. He was very gentle and it felt quite nice. "Sorry, this is probably kinda random, huh? But I've always been curious about this, and it would be weird to ask Ap – a person I didn't know if I could touch their hair."

He sure was slipping up a lot, though the hour was rather late. No matter, as Joanna was more focused on the fact that he seemed to work out his guilt on his own. She was glad for that. "A bit, yeah. I'd probably be a bit freaked out." _More than a bit, most likely._ "Is it like you thought it would be?"

"Sorta. I didn't think it'd be so soft. I've heard people say it's supposed to be, but I never thought that it looked like it actually would be so I didn't believe them."

Joanna chuckled. "It's different for different people, I think. My dad's hair isn't all that soft."

"Maybe it's just girls then." Mikey guessed, and the girl shrugged in return.

The situation continued in silence for a while, and eventually the sensation caused Joanna to grow sleepy. She tried to fight it, not wanting to fall asleep on her guest or make him stop indulging his curiosity, but eventually her eyes drooped shut against her will and she leaned back into the couch. Mikey chuckled beside her. "Getting tired?"

"Mmhmm." She replied, too drowsy to bother forming actual words.

He chuckled more and moved her until she was laying down flat on the couch. "Go to sleep then. I'll let myself out." His hand left her hair and the couch creaked as he stood to leave.

She managed to open her eyes just enough to find his hand and grasp it again. "You'll be back, won't you Mikey?" Joanna asked, sleepiness giving her either courage or carelessness. She couldn't tell which. "You won't just disappear?"

By the time her hero answered her eyes had fallen shut again, but somehow she knew he was smiling anyway. "Don't worry, Anna, I'll be back. I promise."

Something cold and strong and protective brushed against her temple, and with that feeling Joanna fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

The smell of something burning flooded into Joanna's room and startled her awake. _Tell me he's not._

There was a muffled curse followed by the fire alarm going off.

_Yep. Dad's trying to make breakfast again._

Joanna launched herself off her bed – when did she get there? – and trotted towards the kitchen, familiar with this kind of morning. "I'll open the windows and deal with the food if you turn off the alarm and call the fire department this time." She bargained with her dad as she passed him, already on the way to do so.

"Deal." Jon Ward readily agreed and dashed off to stop the beeping.

Twenty minutes later they would be settled on the couch, eating their healthy breakfast of granola bars. "You think by now we'd learn not to try this sort of thing. It never ends well." Her dad observed as he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, exasperated at himself.

"No kidding. But we always do it anyway." Agreed his daughter, who looked at him curiously. "Why were you trying to make pancakes, anyway? You don't like breakfast foods."

Her father ducked his head, but Joanna could see his blush regardless. "I was trying to make them for you, actually. I didn't see you at all yesterday so I was kind of worried about how you were feeling about having your job back after so many months."

_What's with the men in my life always trying to ruin my diet? I appreciate it but still, I'm no good at resisting temptation!_ "So you risk burning down the house to get me out of my room?" She joked.

But her dad was being serious. "No, I just wanted to cheer you up if you were upset. I know they're your favorite." The man sighed and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling again. "Look, Joy, I know you hate talking about your jobs so soon after you've finished one. Really I do. But I get so _worried_ about you. I never see you get more upset than the night you have a job, right after we arrest the guy, and after that you're just fine. But you can't be! Nobody would be! I'm scared that you're bottling everything up or something and that's not healthy. You know that. I figure that talking about your target and telling you who he is would be a good way to both draw out those feelings and calm you down, but–"

Joanna understood and stopped his babbling there. "I know, Daddy, I know." She leaned against him and hugged his arm. "I'm not bottling it up, I swear. I just have a different way of calming down afterward that you don't see." _And never will._ "I'm fine now. You can still tell me about who he is if you want to though."

The police officer visibly relaxed. "I'm glad. But speaking of who...who's that?" He pointed at the corner of the room.

His daughter followed the finger to find Klunk laying there, napping. Joanna gaped for a bit at the sight. How had Mikey forgotten his cat?!

"That...that's Klunk." She managed after a few seconds of being rendered speechless.

"Klunk?" Her dad questioned. "Strange name."

"Really? I think it's cute." Joanna mused, still slightly in shock. "He...belongs to a friend at work. I'll be watching him for a bit." _Apparently_. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"It's fine. When will your friend be back for him?"

Joanna opened her mouth to answer, but froze when the question truly hit her. Mikey _would_ be back for Klunk at some point. She had no plausible way of getting the cat back to him, after all. There was no way to contact him. It was always him who contacted her, in Luigi's or in the alley like last night, neither of which were places she could safely bring a cat. Not when she didn't know if he would be there. So he had to be coming back. Mikey hadn't forgotten his pet, he had purposefully left him there. It was the ultimate proof. If his cat was there, at her home, then he was surely, definitely, absolutely coming back. Just like her hero promised he would.

"I don't know," Joanna answered with a grin she couldn't stop, "but it won't be long."


End file.
